


Step With Me

by TheLordOfLaMancha



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Moving, also this is 100 percent Freckles fault, because I needed practice, countertop kisses, this is 90 percent character introspection, written to Step With Me by Mika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLordOfLaMancha/pseuds/TheLordOfLaMancha
Summary: "Jehan and Montparnasse had been dancing around whatever this was for a while now, and ‘Parnasse had a choice to make. On the whole, he rarely committed to anything. It was too difficult to slip out of something you had sunk yourself into. But who was he kidding? He had sunk into Jehan’s love like he wanted it to swallow him whole.""Montparnasse wasn’t perhaps the most… morally inclined, Jehan knew that. He wasn’t a fool. No one kept hours like Montparnasse did and dressed like that by means of honest work. He was a risk, but wasn’t love a risk too?"A fluffy jehanparnasse character introspection ending in countertop kisses and cake batter mischief. Written to Step With Me by Mika.





	Step With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sunfreckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfreckle/gifts).



> Okay so go listen to [_Step With Me_ by Mika.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFrxrOt06SA) And then come back.
> 
> ...
> 
> Okay great. I know, right?
> 
> Anyways, this fic is written to that song, but in case anyone is interested, the song Jehan is listening to in the kitchen is [_Unforgettable_ by Nat King Cole.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUMoiU3h750)
> 
> Also, this fic is 100% [sunfreckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfreckle/pseuds/Sunfreckle)'s fault.

Despite the mismatched moving boxes stacked precariously around the apartment, Jehan Prouvaire was trying to bake something in the kitchen. The first of the boxes Jehan had opened had been blankets, and naturally, a blanket fort seemed a more productive use of his time. Then it seemed the quest to bake directed him to diving for various cooking implements there. It appeared that Jehan was unpacking on pure whimsy, and for some godforsaken reason, Montparnasse _adored it._

The smallest of gaps in the walls of the massive fort afforded Montparnasse a most excellent view of the kitchen from where he was dozing in a literal nest of pillows. He had been up all night working, and had been relegated to a nap. But who could sleep when they had a view like _this_?

Jehan was humming along to something rhythmic that didn’t sound like it belonged in this decade. He swung slowly with the easy, lazy beat, and Montparnasse could hear his feet tapping along in their ridiculous slipper… boots? They were boot- _shaped,_ Montparnasse thought, but they were slippers? He gave himself a mental shake.

He was curled up under a patchily knitted afghan in a blanket fort, watching a crime against fashion dance around an empty kitchen. It shouldn’t make him feel safe. It did. He didn’t deserve how it made him feel loved. Yet here he was, warmest when he was closest to Jehan. His heart ached in a way that didn’t hurt, but he ran a hand across his chest trying to soothe it.

He rolled onto his side, his head propped up by his hand, and he smiled foolishly to himself. No one was here to see him, so why not? God, how had he even gotten here?

By all accounts, he shouldn’t be here. He was an all-black mark in a riot of colour, and for crying out loud, Montparnasse was pretty sure there were at least three bloodstains on this shirt. Jehan deserved someone easy and soft, someone _safe_ , and Montparnasse was none of those things. He was hard edges, he was wary and skittish, he was suave and charismatic… he wasn’t anything like the frail, wisp of a thing puttering away at his baking.

That was a lie. Jehan wasn’t frail in the slightest, though he looked like he should be. He was strong in body as much as spirit. Montparnasse liked the deception, and perhaps that’s what they had in common. They were both not what others assumed they were.

Others… Jehan was different than the others, Montparnasse mused. He laughed quietly when Jehan startled at an unexpected noise from their new oven, brandishing a wooden spoon in defense.

Jehan stayed, stuck to him in a way no one else had. The people in Montparnasse’s life were transient or hung around out of necessity. He had bonded with his friends by trial, but with Jehan, things just… clicked. There was no test, no awkwardness, just an effortless two way easiness. Familiar. Like it had always been there.

Montparnasse ducked his head and picked at a few loose black threads on the blanket. Jehan and Montparnasse had been dancing around whatever this was for a while now, and ‘Parnasse had a choice to make. On the whole, he rarely committed to anything. It was too difficult to slip out of something you had sunk yourself into. But who was he kidding? He had sunk into Jehan’s love like he wanted it to swallow him whole.

And he adored Jehan. He tickled Montparnasse’s fancy in a way he could never explain. Babet and ‘Sous talked about types and patterns and tastes, and Jehan was just _wrong, wrong, wrong._ How can _you_ , ever the fashionista, like someone who dresses _like THAT?_ Montparnasse likes people who are as dark and edgy as he is. He likes a mystery. He likes quick and fast and indecent.

Montparnasse looked up at Jehan again, who was now lip-syncing into his whisk as he twirled around his kitchen with an invisible partner. Sure, Montparnasse would prefer those terrible clothes on Jehan’s bedroom floor, but there was something about how ridiculous Jehan looked that was terribly _endearing_.

Montparnasse would take this quiet, easy domesticity any day. He’d take all the bad luck in his twenty something years and then some for the _good luck_ he’s struck on in finding Jehan. He’d go as slow and steady as Jehan liked. He’d be reverent. He could be _happy_.

He had spent so long running for safety, running to find a real home. He never found it.

Until it turned up in the smile of an eccentric redhead.

Jehan was soft in all the right ways, and intrepid in all the others. He didn’t ask, he didn’t question, and he trusted blindly in a way that made loving him _so damn easy._

And Montparnasse did. Montparnasse loved him. Devotedly. _Profoundly._

Jehan deserved the world and by God, Montparnasse was going to bring it to him if it killed him.

He was going to hold on to Jehan and never let go.

He stood up and made for the kitchen.

* * *

Jehan was baking chocolate cake for Montparnasse. He thought he deserved something sweet after a long night. That, and he had only bought so many groceries when he moved and that limited his choices and…

Jehan shook his head to clear it and took a deep breath. He was getting carried away. A slow and pretty song echoed quietly around the kitchen from his electric record player, and he hummed along, careful not to wake Montparnasse in the room behind.

He was going to ask Montparnasse to move in with him, he thought absently. Later, maybe, when everything had settled. It was a silly thing to think, Jehan mused. They barely knew what this was, and yet Jehan just felt it was right. It was wild and reckless, but Jehan could feel the surety of it in his bones.

Montparnasse wasn’t perhaps the most… _morally inclined_ , Jehan knew that. He wasn’t a fool. No one kept hours like Montparnasse did and dressed like that by means of honest work. He was a risk, but wasn’t love a risk too?

Besides, Jehan mused, he could be hit by a bus tomorrow, or struck by lightning, or choke on his cake! Life was full of risks, and Jehan was certain that this one’s benefits certainly outweighed the potential consequences.

His friends had cautioned him against Montparnasse as well. He would hurt him, they had said. But as Jehan thought about his dark amour curled up in a nest of pillows behind him, he laughed in his head. If only they could see him now, soft and gentle. Where all others could see was the brashness and the sharp edges, Jehan could see the hurt in Montparnasse’s eyes and he would be patient. If he didn’t rush him, Jehan doubted Montparnasse would ever even dream of hurting him.

Montparnasse was elegant and graceful and clever, and Jehan was enchanted. He could live with his flightiness and was almost thrilled at the danger that followed Montparnasse like a shadow.

As he switched to whisking, Jehan listened to the crackle of static on the record and dreamed himself a femme fatale of on old crime noir movie. What a romantic thing that would be, to be partner to a devilishly handsome crime lord. So what if maybe Jehan fancied a little danger. And maybe his fantasy was closer to the truth than he knew.

But what he did know was that he loved him, whatever his faults, and that would have to be enough. Picking up the whisk, Jehan pretended to sing along to the slow, jazzy song, and dance with his notorious lover around the kitchen.

Jehan only just caught Montparnasse with his fingers in the batter when he twirled around. He hadn’t heard him come into the kitchen. He smirked as he brought his finger to his mouth, caught red handed.

“Ah, ah,” Jehan tisked, rushing over to swat at Montparnasse’s crafty fingers. “Get. Your. Hands. Off!”

Montparnasse laughed, and Jehan smirked mischievously when he tried to make a go for the bowl again. Raising the whisk, he tapped it against Montparnasse’s nose, leaving a thick smattering of batter in its wake. Montparnasse reeled back in surprise.

“What happened to your nap?” Jehan asked, and Montparnasse smiled in a way that meant trouble.

He leaned forward and pecked Jehan on the lips so that their noses bumped together, infecting Jehan’s face with the batter as well.

“Why sleep when I could be watching you?” he said smoothly. Well, as smoothly as one could with cake batter on their nose. He leaned back against the counter.

“Why watch when you could dance?” Jehan replied, reaching for his hands to pull him in. “I need a nefarious criminal to sweep this femme fatale off their feet.”

“Oh do you now?” Montparnasse asked slyly, twirling Jehan around and easing them into a dance around the kitchen. “And how will you charm me into loving you?”

“I have my ways,” Jehan admitted.

“Care to elaborate?”

Jehan hummed thoughtfully. “Well, step one, I convince you to come a little closer.”

On the next twirl, Jehan stepped a little closer to Montparnasse until they were flush with each other. He pulled Montparnasse’s arms around him, and he let him, so Jehan continued.

“Step two, I rest my head on your shoulder like this,” Jehan said, and leaned his head into the space between Montparnasse’s neck and shoulder.

Montparnasse hummed and Jehan could feel the vibration course through him. He lifted his hand and gently stroked up and down Jehan’s back.

“I like where this is going,” he whispered as he slowed them to a simple sway. Jehan smiled.

“Step three,” he whispered into Montparnasse’s ear. “I start calling you my baby.”

Montparnasse pulled away to cringe at the endearment, and Jehan laughed.

“ _Mon amour_ , then,” Jehan suggested, and Montparnasse smiled fondly.

“ _Mon amour_ ,” he echoed.

Montparnasse raised a hand to stroke through Jehan’s hair before turning them around and lifting Jehan onto the counter. The measuring cups and spoons and bowls clattered against the soft sounding music, but he didn’t care.

Jehan giggled out his surprise, but spread out his knees and reached to pull Montparnasse flush to the counter in front of him. He ran his fingers gingerly over Montparnasse’s face and revelled in the soft blush his fingers seemed to leave behind. A shy smile split across Montparnasse’s face as Jehan held it in his hands, and Jehan bit their lip to fight back their own smile.

With one hand, Montparnasse stroked Jehan’s thigh, and the other was seemingly lost in Jehan’s hair. The world was still beyond the quiet crooning of the singer coming from the record player.

“What’s step four then?” Montparnasse whispered, so close that Jehan could feel the words against his lips. “You marry me?”

Jehan ducked his head and blushed. Montparnasse wished they hadn’t, because his smile was brilliant.

“If you’re asking,” Jehan whispered when he could look up and meet his eyes. “ _Yes_.”

Montparnasse’s brow furrowed, like he hadn’t expected Jehan’s answer, but Jehan just stroked the tension away with his thumb. With a laugh he reached over to the fruit bowl on the counter and picked up a cherry.

“Pretty please,” Jehan said. “With a cherry on top!”

He placed the cherry on top of Montparnasse’s head and it was _just so silly,_ Montparnasse knew he was grinning like an idiot. He plucked the cherry from his hair and brought it to Jehan’s lips, but Jehan grabbed it and put it aside. Instead, he pulled Montparnasse’s face towards him and kissed him.

As he did so, Jehan hooked his legs up and over Montparnasse’s hips, crossing his legs behind him. He pulled him impossibly closer, and smiled as Montparnasse kissed him back.

It could have been an age, it could have been minutes, and neither of them cared. Neither worried about the boxes to unpack, or what all this meant, or that they still had batter all over their faces. All that mattered were Montparnasse’s lips on his and the hand curling deeper into his hair. All that mattered was Jehan’s legs looped around him and the warmth of his hands against his face.

The song ended, and the record player clicked as the needle lifted, but the two didn’t notice. Just like they didn’t notice when Montparnasse leaned forward to deepen the kiss and his hand went out to balance on the counter and instead went straight into the bowl of batter.

The kiss broke as Montparnasse jumped with surprise, quickly pulling his hand out to Jehan’s delighted laughter. As Montparnasse frowned at his hand, Jehan smiled fondly before bringing the hand to his mouth and licking the batter off one of his fingers. Montparnasse shivered, but shook his head, taking the hand back.

“What happened to not tasting the batter?” Montparnasse asked as he licked one of his other fingers and walked over to the sink to wash them clean.

Jehan pouted, but jumped off the counter to come and snake his arms around Montparnasse’s waist from behind.

“I forgot,” he admitted, leaning his head on Montparnasse’s shoulder. “You taste sweeter though.”

Jehan turned his face to kiss behind Montparnasse’s ear as he chuckled, but he shook his hands dry and turned to catch Jehan’s mouth with his own.

“Is that so?” he breathed. “Well you’re as sweet as they get.”

Jehan grinned and pulled away.

“I should get this cake in the oven,” Jehan said, throwing Montparnasse a look over his shoulder. “And make sure you get that nap before we start on the rest of the boxes.”

“I can think of a way you could convince me,” Montparnasse replied, returning a knowing smirk to Jehan.

“Oh really?” Jehan asked as they tossed the cake in the oven. “What are the steps?”

Montparnasse twirled Jehan into a music-less waltz that carried them into the living room. “You’ll just have to step with me, and find out.”

Jehan snorted and pushed Montparnasse back into the pillows of the blanket fort.

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations on surviving a whole lot of character introspection!
> 
> I also have [adorablecrab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorablecrab) (or [deboracabral](http://deboracabral.tumblr.com) on tumblr) to thank for the ending. Go give [this awesome drawing](http://deboracabral.tumblr.com/post/160148513073/early-morning-at-the-jehanparnasse-household) some reblogs, would you?
> 
> Comment if you liked this? <3 You're always welcome to come chat on tumblr. You can find me at [fishanchipsandvinegar.](http://fishandchipsandvinegar.tumblr.com/)


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